


Whose Gift?

by IrishWitch58



Category: Society of Gentlemen - K. J. Charles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 09:18:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14638802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishWitch58/pseuds/IrishWitch58
Summary: Inspired by the gorgeous artwork @hattedhedgehog did for Valentine's Day. Dom finds a way to surprise Silas involving ropes.





	Whose Gift?

Dominic Frey was at loose ends. It was a Thursday morning and he was not due to his office until after noon. He was restless and likely to remain so for at least the near future. Lord Richard Vane had moved his household to Arrandene for the month and that meant Silas Mason had gone along, accompanied by several crates of newly bound books to be catalogued for the Vane library. Having his lover work for his childhood friend was a neat solution to some problems but was currently not so comfortable. Dominic missed Silas. He could have taken a carriage to his new position at the tax office but the longer walk at least burned off energy. 

He found himself standing in front of a bookseller's shop. Senor Ibanez, Rarities and Ephemera read the sign above the door. The letters curled in an antique style in faded gilt. The shop window featured stacks of volumes and some framed prints and a fine fluffy cat that regarded passers by with feline disdain, sunlight glinting off it's slitted eyes. Books were always a welcome distraction and he could not recollect seeing this shop before. Dominic opened the door and heard the faint tinkle of the bell above his head. The smell of the place was comforting, paper, glue and leather. He advanced a few steps and a man emerged from a door behind the counter. He was small and neatly dressed and possessed a fine curving mustache. To Dominic's surprise, the man greeted him in distinctly London accents. “Francisco Ibanez at your service, sir. How may I help you?” The man must have seen the surprise. He smiled and confided, “My father was from Portugal but my mother was from the East End.”

Dominic found himself smiling back. “I have a great liking for unusual books. Your shop looks interesting.”

“I specialize in the unusual and rare including foreign volumes.” Ibanez gestured at the well stocked shelves. “You may feel free to look about if you like or perhaps I can help you find a particular work.”

Dominic turned to the shelves and drew out a title he recognized but had never read. While he examined several more books, he was aware of Ibanez working behind the counter and making entries in a ledger while unpacking a crate. Each volume was stacked on the counter neatly when he was finished. The pile was about head high when Dominic came up with two volumes of poetry he intended to purchase. The book currently in Ibanez's hands immediately drew his attention. “What sort of writing is that?” He gestured at the black inked images that looked more like diagrams. 

“It is Japanese, sir.” Ibanez laid the book down on top of the crate, reaching for the books Dominic had selected. “I can wrap these now or have them delivered if you prefer.” 

Dominic's curiosity was piqued. “I believe I would like to see that one for a moment.” He had an inkling of why Ibanez might be reluctant and was proven correct when the book was grudgingly handed over. Dominic examined the fine burgundy colored leather that covered the small volume. There was no title stamped on it. The first page was a series of the inked images arranged in neat columns. The second was a startlingly beautiful image of a couple in erotic congress. The book was filled with such images, all of them appearing hand drawn in delicate inks. Ibanez was watching nervously as Dominic perused them. The seventh image made him catch his breath. A young man was kneeling on a pile of cushions. He was naked except for a sweep of black hair that cascaded down his back and a series of scarlet ropes that restrained his arms to his torso. His face was turned to look over his shoulder and he was smiling slightly. Dominic swallowed hard and forced his eyes up. “Senor Ibanez. What else can you tell me about this book?'

Apparently reassured that his customer wasn't calling the authorities, Ibanez gestured at the book. “As I said, sir. It is Japanese. Portugal has long traded with Japan and occasionally we see such things. It is called, as I understand, a pillow book and is intended as a gift to enhance, umm, conjugal interest as it were.”

Dominic had paged past the illustration that had so caught his attention and was more in control of his voice. “And how much are you asking for this article?” Ibanez consulted a previous page in his ledger and named a price. It appeared he had sold such items before. Dominic nodded agreement. “Please wrap these as well. I'll take them all with me.” He walked out of the shop with a paper parcel under his arm. He'd have to lock the package in his desk drawer for the afternoon but he was already anticipating examining his purchase at his leisure.  
The book was as lovely as could be wished. With time to examine it and a glass of wine at his elbow, Dominic turned the pages with gentle care. While some of the illustrations were merely aesthetically lovely, Dominic found at least half were of men together and some of these were very much to his own taste. But he kept coming back to the young man in the ropes. Staring at it made him ache for his lover. Silas had used manacles or ropes on him before. It drove Dom wild and he could easily exhaust himself under Silas's loving abuse but he had never imagined anything like this and, having seen it, he couldn't stop imagining it. He pictured himself in the place of the unknown young man and felt himself harden uncomfortably. He automatically checked that the door was closed before adjusting his breeches to be less constricting. What would Silas do if he had Dom in a such a web of ropes? It suddenly seemed imperative to find out. But how in the world would you find a way to do that? He locked the book carefully in his desk and pocketed the key and went to his bed, still thinking even as he relieved the ache in his prick and finally fell asleep.

Dominic concentrated on business but kept turning the puzzle over in his mind during lunch and finally made a decision. He left his office at his usual hour and headed to Millay's. Zoe was very fond of him and was canny about every way in which men sought pleasure. He presented her with a box of sweets with a carefully considered incentive tucked inside. She seated him in her parlour and had a servant bring a pot of tea. Sipping her own cup she smiled at him. “And how may I help you this evening, sir? Surely Mr. Mason and yourself haven't fallen out?”

“Not at all, dear lady. I needed some advice and thought you might know someone very trustworthy to ask.” He reminded himself Zoe was likely not to be shocked and looked into his cup as he continued. “I need someone who can tie ropes creatively and artistically. Is there someone you know who might answer?”

Zoe chuckled. “Indeed and so do you, Mr. Frey. That Will Quex did something like that for this house a few times. Can truss a man up like a Christmas goose he can. Said he learned it from a cove in a music hall act.”

Dominic replaced his cup on the table with care. “I never would have expected it. Might Mr. Quex be persuaded to a private consultation do you think?”

“Only one way to find that out, Mr Frey. You'll have to ask Will. Should I send a note to have him come here?”

“No, better ask if he can come to my rooms. Send and ask if he can come tomorrow evening if you please.” Dom finished his tea and retrieved his hat from the maid and went home. He determinedly did not open the desk drawer and spent his evening answering his post.

The following evening his housekeeper announced a visitor. Will Quex was shown into the study. He was dressed in a sober suit. Dominic wondered how many other people realized Will was not entirely what he seemed and then decided it didn't matter. Quex was unique in Dominic's experience and a man of great resourcefulness. He gestured Quex to a chair and held up the silver pot on the tray. “Coffee?” he offered. Will looked a bit puzzled but accepted the cup. He sniffed it with some pleasure and sipped. “I'm in need of some assistance with a project, Since I am sure of your discretion and since Mistress Zoe has informed me you have some knowledge of what I might require, I wished to ask for your help.”

Will tapped a finger on the edge of the saucer. “Begging pardon, but might you be more specific? I mean, given you're Lord Richard's friend I certainly want to be of help but I'd like to know a bit more before I say for sure.”

Dominic pulled the little key out of his waistcoat pocket and stepped to the desk, removing the book. He placed it on the table between them and opened to the page that so haunted him. He turned the book and nudged it gently across to Will. When Will raised his eyes, Dominic was grateful his expression was interested but not at all amused. “I would like to know if it is possible to do this. I mean to duplicate this on me.” He was shocked his voice was so calm.

Will examined the picture more closely. His finger traced the lines of the ropes without touching the page and he cocked his head to one side considering. “I reckon so. The ropes of course might be a bit of a cost. That shine – silk likely. And the color.”

Dominic was amazed. “Getting the ropes is the only problem?”

Will nodded briefly. “This kind of rigging takes time but it's all just knots. I think I can follow this for a pattern. The ropes might come a bit dear.” 

Dominic tried to contain his excitement. “If I were to provide you with funds, could you get sufficient rope of that kind in, say a fortnight?” His birthday was the 21st and Silas was supposed to be done with his business at Arrandene by the 19th or 20th. 

Will nodded again. “Should have it by the end of the week most likely, Mr. Frey. Would you be desirous of me doing so?”

Offering a small purse, rather heavy for it's size, Dominic answered. “I would, and please keep the remainder in appreciation of your help. Please send a note when you have them.”

“Indeed, sir. With pleasure.” Will finished his coffee and Dominic returned the book to its' drawer and had the housekeeper show his guest out. He sent a quick note to Arrandene saying he was sorry he would have to be in town for his birthday knowing Richard would be kind enough to pass the knowledge to Silas along with the date. 

The note on the small table by the door was from Quex. Dominic read it twice. It said that the items were purchased and he would be by this evening to deliver them. If it was not convenient, Dominic was to send a message back to the club. With nothing else planned, he prepared for Quex's arrival. He dismissed the maid early and waited in the study. The fire kept the room comfortable and he had left his coat off. The tap at the door was quiet, inclined not to arouse the interest of the neighbors. Dominic opened the door and ushered Quex in. The package under his arm was wrapped in brown butcher paper and tied with common twine, utterly innocuous. Dominic indicated the study door and followed his guest into the room. Will handed over the parcel and sat on the edge of the chair he had used on his previous visit. Dominic used his letter opener to cut the twine and unfolded the paper. The contents were exactly what he had wanted. The coils of rope were a vivid scarlet with a subtle sheen and smooth to his fingers. “These are quite fine, Quex. Thank you.” He hesitated a moment then continued. “Would you have the time to practice technique this evening?”

Will nodded agreeably. “I am at your disposal, Mr. Frey. Perhaps you might show me your book again and find yourself comfortably settled. This might take a bit of time.”

The process took an hour. Dominic had elected to kneel on the carpet in front of the fire. Will put the book on the seat of a chair and consulted it frequently. He tried several variations, looping and tying and untying, occasionally tsking or hmphing to himself. Dominic tried his best to relax but as each knot settled into place, his anticipation grew. When Will finally stepped away he flexed a bit. The ropes were smooth and snug, restrictive without being painful. Will picked up the book gingerly and walked around him, referring to the illustration and to the completed bindings. He nodded decisively. “Reckon that's as close as I can get, Mr. Frey. Have you a glass?” Dominic nodded at a small mirror on the table near the curtained window. Will retrieved it and held it so that when Dominic craned his head over his shoulder, he could see the webwork of ropes down his back. 

“Mr. Quex, your reputation is well deserved. This is absolutely what I wished.” As Will began loosening and removing the ropes, Dominic smiled. The next time he used these ropes, it would be for Silas. “How much notice must I give when I need this done again? I have in mind the evening of the 20th.” 

“I am always at your disposal, Mr. Frey. So long as you send to the club I can be here in an hour's time. Should I leave these here then?” He pointed to the neatly coiled ropes. 

“Yes. I have a place for them. I'll send for you then and thank you for your efforts.” Dominic followed Quex to the door and locked it behind him, returning to the study to his usual chair. He laid the package of ropes on the table and took the book carefully into his lap, studying the page with a contented smile. He had the means for his fantasy to come to life. Now all he had to do was wait. 

On the morning of the 18th there was a note from Richard in the morning post.  
“Dom, I am sorry I will be leaving for the continent directly from Arrandene. I will have Mason bring my gift along when he returns, arriving on the afternoon of the 20th. I am sure you will have a wonderful birthday and wish you many more, Richard.”

Dominic had his plans in place. He told his maid and housekeeper he would be out celebrating his birthday the evening of the 20th and they were to have the evening off as well as the following day, telling them he was inclined to have them celebrate in his honor. His valet was also informed he would not be needed on the 21st ensuring he would have uninterrupted time to enjoy his celebration. Dominic had the reputation of being a generous employer and he was sure they would see nothing odd in being treated to some unexpected free time. He went to work as usual on the 19th and the 20th although he did leave a bit early that day. Again nothing remarkable. The office was quiet and he had nothing important needing his attention. He sent to Richard's townhouse to let Mr. Mason know that 8 o'clock would be an ideal time to bring Richard's promised birthday gift to his rooms. And then he sent to Quex's asking if Mr. Quex would be available at 7 o'clock to assist with a small task

Dominic was waiting when Quex tapped at the door. He let him in and headed for the study. “Is there anyone else here, sir?” Will asked. 

“Not yet,” Dominic replied. “I am expecting Mr. Mason in an hour. He does have a key.” Dominic nodded at the locked front door. He had removed his coat and waistcoat and had decided on leaving his shirt and breeches on. He was not comfortable with his possible reactions being too visible when Will was there to see. He had deliberately dressed with clothing he knew was more easily removed. He led the way to the study. He glanced at his preparations. He had placed a few bed cushions on the floor and made sure there was oil on the table. The room was warm and he was more than ready. Will said little as he efficiently duplicated the rope pattern he had used a week ago. He had apparently memorized the sequence and this time there was no hesitation. Dominic breathed slowly and carefully trying to keep his arousal under control. If Will noticed, he did not react. The mantle clock ticked steadily. The ropes enclosed him and quelled his impatience and he felt himself reach a state of calm. Silas was on his way and all that remained for him was to be patient. 

“There sir. All done. And very nice it is.” Will sounded pleased. “When is your visitor expected?”

Dominic glanced at the clock. “About 10 minutes. You had better leave I think.”

“I'll leave by the back stairs when I hear the key. Not about to leave you here like this.”  
He placed a knife on the carpet and nodded at it. “That's another precaution. Just in case Mr. Mason has an apoplexy when he sees you like this, you may need to cut yourself loose.” Will gave the first hint of amusement he had shown through the whole business. He grinned crookedly and nodded at the noise at the door. “That's my cue to be somewhere else. Have a happy birthday, sir.” Will ducked out to the hallway and his light footsteps, punctuated with the slight drag of a limp, moved down to the back stairs.

Dominic breathed slowly and deeply, his eyes fixed on the carpet under him as he heard firm footfalls in the hallway. The study door opened behind him and there was silence except for a short indrawn breath. The familiar rasp of Silas's voice warmed more than the fire did. “Well now, Tory. I thought it was your birthday but seems like I've been given the gift to unwrap.” Dom turned his head to look over his shoulder, smiling as he took in his lover. He was wearing the simple and severe dark suit that marked him as a respectable employee of a respectable household but the salacious wolf's grin was pure Silas. The heavy footsteps were muffled by the carpet as Silas advanced and circled Dom. A rough hand nudged at Dom's chin, forcing him to look up. “You make a pretty picture. But I guess you know that seeing as how you must have gone to some trouble to manage this.” Silas ran his other hand over the ropes, examining them and assessing exactly how tightly they were tied. “I suppose I'd better reward such clever thinking. Maybe you'd like that? What do you say Tory, fancy a nice fat prick in your mouth?” 

Dominic's eyes were wide and pleading and he licked his lips, knowing what he desperately wanted but, as always, resistant to asking for it. Silas would force him to it. He could trust that. He nodded and ventured a quiet, “Please...”

Silas shook his head. “Maybe I've been gone a little too long. Forgotten your lessons have you?” Silas ran a hand over the front of his breeches, emphasizing the already clear outline of his cock. “You ask me nicely for what you want and maybe you'll get it.” He raised an eyebrow and waited. 

Dom shifted on his knees, wet his lips and said very softly, “Please may I suck your cock, sir?” He was surprised at how easily the words came. He'd had to be pushed much harder in the past. This time the words flowed out of his need and perhaps the restraint. He had removed his own choices at the start. He could only do what Silas wanted. Simple. 

Silas nodded as he unbuttoned his breeches. “That was very nice.” He stroked his firm length once and stepped closer, rubbing the head of his prick over Dom's lips and giving a slow steady push in. “You'll go slow and stop when I say. I want to make this last. Don't care to be rushed.” He stood firmly and rested a hand on Dom's head, stroking lightly, petting and indulgent. Dom moved as gracefully as he could manage with hands bound behind him and Silas's grip his only balance. He sucked and lapped and ignored the saliva that dripped down his chin. It was messy and absolutely what he needed. His mouth full of Silas and his senses completely focused on one task. Until a firmer grip pulled him away. “Not yet.” Silas grinned and shook himself a little. He surveyed Dom's bound figure and let out a low laugh. “You made one mistake. You'd have done better to have the clothes off first and not made things inconvenient for me. Now let's see how you manage.” 

Dom felt himself blush. He had thought of it but hadn't had the nerve to do it with Will Quex securng the ropes. He managed to get his feet under him and heaved up. He could heel the boots off one at a time. Silas watched as he barely kept his balance. Dom bit his lip and took a deep breath. “Please may I have some help with the breeches?” He deliberately kept his eyes up despite the flare of embarrassment. 

Silas crooked a finger at him and seated himself in the armchair. Dom walked over and watched as Silas slid a hand up and pressed firmly at Dom's arousal. He kneaded and squeezed and took evident delight in the soft noises Dom couldn't help making. The fingers of his other hand flicked the buttons open and he shoved breeches and drawers down together. Dom awkwardly stepped out of the garments, kicking them aside. Silas stood up, forcing Dom to step back. “You still have a problem,” he commented, gesturing at the shirt and tapping a finger on Dom's cheek. “Luckily someone was thinking properly.” He looped a finger in the top round of the rope and towed Dom after him as he crossed the few steps to the knife Will had left. A firm hand on his shoulder cued Dom to kneel on the cushions. He shivered as Silas disappeared behind him, gooseflesh rising in spite of the heat from the fireplace. “How fond are you of this shirt?” Silas asked conversationally. He fingered a sleeve thoughtfully as he settled behind Dom.

“Please, no.” Dom's voice was a desperate whisper. He didn't give a damn about the shirt but the knife was making him anxious. And his anxiety made no difference because the ropes took away his choice. All but one. If he used Silas's last name, everything stopped. And there was no possibility he was about to do that. A fit of nerves was not going to ruin things at this stage. 

It seemed Silas had been waiting. “Nothing to say?” He nipped Dom's ear lightly. “Guess you should have considered a few more things ahead of time. Too late now.” Silas's breath tickled the nape of Dom's neck and a sharp tug split the right sleeve from shoulder to wrist, the barest tip of the blade tickling the skin underneath. “Best hold still, Tory. I'd hate to mark you without meaning to.” The knife moved unpredictably, the cloth parting and an occasional scratch painting Dom's skin with fire. Silas continued conversationally. “Should have done this sooner. It's a pleasure seeing such pretty pink marks on you. Fine skin you have. Best make sure your valet doesn't see this.” Dom's breath rasped in his throat as he held his position. Silas pulled the remains of the shirt away from under the ropes, running the knife lightly up and down bared skin. He tugged Dom's head around and caught his mouth in a deep kiss, forcing it to gentleness when Dom was desperate for a firmer touch. Silas drew back, a pleased grin creasing his features. “Eager whore, ain't you.” Silas drew the knife downward. Dom watched the blade slipping down over his belly, scratching faint pink lines. When Silas reached Dom's cock, he flipped the blade over and ran the flat edge from base to tip of Dom's hard cock. Dom shuddered, the sensation almost as acute as if he had been cut. “Awfully ready there, Tory.” Silas wrapped a strong arm around Dom's waist and brought the hand up to pinch a nipple. “Wonder how fast I can make you come the first time.” The blade moved again, teasing and promising and not quite enough, the pressure driving Dom to press his hips forward earning a sharp tug back. “Not your choice. You get what I choose to give.” Silas whispered in his ear and the flat edge of the blade stroked up and down. Dom closed his eyes and gave himself over to the feeling. The solid heat of Silas behind him. The strength of the arm around his chest. The slow and rhythmic stroke of metal up and down his cock and the knowledge that a single turn of the blade could be disaster and the trust that Silas would always take care of him. He was quivering on the edge of release when the hard edge of the blade disappeared and he felt the familiar grip of a calloused palm and he cried out sharply. He would not have believed it possible but that one touch had him spilling over Silas's hand. Silas continued to stroke, a firm pull that made Dom whimper. “Think it's my turn now.” Dom was lowered to the cushions and heard Silas behind him, the thud of shoes on the carpet and clothes rustling. Dom's hips were pulled up and an oiled finger stroked along his ass. The other hand returned to his cock and he tried to jerk away, crying out at the firm grasp on too sensitive flesh. Caught between Silas's hands, a move back drove an oiled finger into him and a forward move stimulated his cock painfully. He struggled briefly. “Something to say, Tory?” Dom shook his head, stilling again as he felt Silas nudge his cock into place. Dom was impossibly hardening again, amazed at his response. Silas leaned more of his weight froward. “Tell me what you want.”

Dom turned his head, “You know what I want,” he gasped. 

Silas gave another tug and a forward nudge. “Not a fortune teller am I?” he countered. “No crystal ball to tell me what's in your head.” The hand on Dom's cock slipped off and grasped his balls. “Although these can be fun.” The grip tightened slightly and Dom struggled to get past whatever it was that made it so damned hard for him to tell Silas what he needed. He knew Silas knew his body but he also knew Silas was aware he had to be forced to acknowledge what his body needed. Gritting his teeth and turning his head to look over his shoulder, he ground out. “Will you get on with it and fuck me?” A faint tightening of the grip on his balls pulled out a belated, “please.”

Silas slid forward and in, one long glide that burned and stretched Dom until he keened out his pain and pleasure. Silas paused and stroked Dom's cock back to a full stand and began to move, timing strokes to thrusts. Silas had slowed every time Dom tried to hasten him and finally he just held himself still. “I think you're ready now.” Silas gripped Dom's hips and changed the angle a bit. Dom gave a hoarse cry and pushed back to meet the strokes now. Silas stroked him faster and drove into him urgently and Dom felt the sudden heat inside and his own release a second later. He almost fell forward but Silas tugged them both sideways as he withdrew. He breathed harshly in Dom's ear, sweat slicking their skin, hands gentle, stroking familiarly. “Missed me?” The low voice was indulgent and amused.

Dom squirmed a little. “Of course I missed you, you swine. Now please get these ropes off so I can get my hands on you.” Silas chuckled and hunted for the ends of the rope. He found the final knot and began to unravel the web. He made a grab for the knife at one point and Dom spoke sharply. “Don't you dare, The ropes cost more than the shirt.” Silas huffed a little at that but returned to his task, finally dropping the last of the ropes to one side. Dom stretched and wrapped his arms around his lover. Naked, sticky and aching, this was the best birthday he could ever remember. Sated and relaxed, they kissed, Silas was smoothing his hands over pale skin striped with rope marks and knife scrapes. Dom eventually leaned up a little and reached for a bottle and glasses he had left near their pillow nest. He poured some of the wine and sipped his. Silas sampled and nodded approval. “Fine stuff,” he agreed. He tapped the glass thoughtfully with a finger. “So where did all this come from?” 

“The wine is German,” Dom answered, fully aware that was not what was asked. Silas raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean the ropes? There was a book...” Silas grinned and Dom returned the expression, rising to go to the desk. He hunted through the pockets of his discarded coat and opened the drawer. Silas set his wine aside and cleaned his hands carefully on a rag of the destroyed shirt as Dom recrossed the floor, handing the book to Silas before sinking carefully down on the cushions. 

Silas examined the binding and the quality of the leather. He frowned thoughtfully. “Ibanez,” he muttered.

“You know him?” Dom wasn't sure why he was surprised. Booksellers and binders were part of their own community. They crossed paths with the same people frequently. 

“Run across him once or twice,” Silas acknowledged as he opened the book. “He's a fair man and canny. Good source for things you can't get elsewhere.” He tilted the page he was examining. “Seen this before, Japanese is it?” At Dom's nod he turned another page. “Very pretty.” He looked through the entire volume and then came back to the picture that had begun all this. He picked up a loop of the rope and ran it through his fingers. “How'd you manage it?” He set the book down gently and picked up his wine, eyeing Dom over the rim of the glass. 

“Quex,” Dom responded. “Seems he has some skill in that department. And we know he's discreet and already knows about us. I called him to look at the book and asked him if he could do it.” 

Silas leaned back, lounging against the cushions. “Have to thank him next time I have the chance. Although I am still puzzled why it's your birthday and I get to unwrap the present.” He finished the wine and set the glass down and tugged Dom to curl against his side. 

Dom sighed and relaxed. “I have had a very happy birthday. I don't care about unwrapping gifts.”

Silas kissed the top of Dom's head and then his mouth, as soft now as he had been brutal earlier. “Just remember. Your birthday isn't over yet.”


End file.
